


The Mighty Fixit

by castie67, concupiscence66



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:10:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1380337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castie67/pseuds/castie67, https://archiveofourown.org/users/concupiscence66/pseuds/concupiscence66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a 2009 interview, co-creator of The Mighty Boosh Julian Barratt stated, "I kind of wish at the end of every episode we made out."  So do we!  Six episodes of The Mighty Boosh have been rewritten with smutty goodness added to the end of every story.  Each chapter is a stand-alone, so every time is a first time.  Other minor troubling plot points are addressed, as well.  Enjoy the show!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Killeroo Fixit by concupiscence66

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out the beautiful artwork by Lily (alyelle) at:
> 
> http://poshlil.livejournal.com/449854.html

For as long as he could remember, Vince had loved zoos. Whenever things were bad at home, he would come to the Zooniverse and chat with the animals and they would take his mind off of his troubles. One year, he won a free year-long pass to the Zooniverse in an art contest at school. For that year, he went nearly every day. Then the pass expired.

So Vince pulled out his pencils and doctored the form. The guy who ran the zoo, Bob Fossil was insane, as was the guy working the gate and Vince was able to get away with it for a year. Then another year. And another. It was Howard Moon that suggested Vince just get a job at the zoo if he was going to show up every day. Vince weakly protested that he was only fifteen and still in school (as it said on his free pass). Howard smirked and said, "Drop out. GCSEs aren't that important."

Howard become Vince's favorite part of the zoo. He was grumpy and stuffy, but he made Vince laugh. Howard clearly hated to laugh at Vince's jokes and struggled desperately to keep a straight face. The harder Howard tried to remain indifferent, the more desperate was Vince's need to win him over. Vince was no genius, but he wasn't a complete thickie. He knew it wasn't possible to make everyone like him, but that didn't stop him from trying to befriend every surly character he came across. Maybe it was because of his parents, or maybe he was just wired wrong, but Vince could never accept that someone did not care for his presence. It took a while to win Howard over, but when it started to happen, Vince found he was not content to be merely tolerated by the rumpled, jazzy nutter. He wanted to be Howard's friend.

So when Howard spent the day lost in one of his funks and didn't get a thing done, Vince picked up the slack. When the monkeys wouldn't stop throwing their poo and masturbating long enough for Howard to feed them, Vince told them to cool it. When Howard wrote poems about the lovely, but clearly insane, Mrs. Gideon, Vince did not point out the obvious fact that Howard was barking up the wrong tree. Howard was taken in by Gideon's classically beautiful features, slim figure, and (most importantly) her glasses. He even admired her vaguely European accent. Vince had seen Gideon's file, she was a 57-year-old former hairdresser from Croyden. Her expertise in snakes and reptiles came from watching telly and reading the old National Geographics in her salon (At least, that was what she'd listed under "education" on her application to the Zooniverse). Apparently, once she secured a position as a reptile expert, she embraced the role and bought herself some glasses and gave herself a nifty new accent. Howard was as easy to fool as Fossil. He fully believed that Gideon was a sophisticated academic.

That Howard was so easily fooled only endeared him to Vince. He was slightly better educated than Vince, but lacked any kind of street smarts or understanding of the human condition. Howard was so innocent and naive, he thought jazz was real music.

When Vince asked Howard what he thought women liked, and Howard said, "trumpets and bookmarks," it made Vince's insides go all gooey. Howard was like a babe in the woods, and it made Vince feel downright sophisticated and urbane.

It was a random impulse that made Vince encourage Howard to fight a kangaroo. The kangaroos Vince had talked to were pretty decent and he didn't really think Howard would get hurt. When Howard believed Vince was from a family of boxers and that the weird old guy from the gym was his uncle, it gave Vince pause. He considered the fact that maybe Howard was too naive for his own good.

But he liked that Howard was listening to him. It made him feel like someone. As much as he played at being a leader, Howard lacked self-confidence. While Vince generally enjoyed having Howard look to him for reassurance about silly things, it was genius to have Howard hanging on his every word.

He would have loved the attention from Howard, even if he hadn't seen a pic of Howard's cock.

Vince had wanted to see Howard naked the way he wanted to see Fossil naked, just to see how everything was put together. Vince liked to draw and hadn't seen nearly enough naked people in his life to get good at forms. He really only knew how to draw skinny, short guys like himself.

When he looked at the pictures, he expected to see a dumpy, middle aged man with balls hanging down to his knees. Instead, Howard looked good naked. He looked far better naked than in anything Vince had ever seen him wear. Everything was nicely proportioned. Everything.

When Vince pointed it out, Howard seemed to think he was talking about something on his chest, as though Vince would have noticed an ear growing out of Howard's chest when Howard's family jewels were on display.

Vince wasn't opposed to the idea of getting off with a man, but his first reaction to seeing Howard naked was strange. He wanted to suck Howard's cock. Not in the vague, I'd-blow-him-to-get-backstage or I'd-endure-it-for-Bowie way. He wanted to leave Howard red-faced and spent with that vulnerable look Howard got every time he wasn't sure he'd done something right.

Vince wasn't going to do anything about it, of course. Howard liked girls and Vince liked cool people. It was just one of those strange impulses that was best ignored. Vince had a lot of those impulses.

Like the impulse to make Howard a track suit. Vince only intended to make himself an outfit, what was the point of an adventure without an outfit?, but then he bought twice the material he needed. He'd never sewn an outfit for anyone else and he'd severely underestimated the length of Howard's legs. More importantly, the material clung in a rather revealing manner. Vince couldn't look at Howard without seeing his package fully outlined. Worse was the fact Vince's suit was made of the same material. He couldn't risk a saucy thought about Howard without risking a very noticeable tent in his trousers.

Fortunately, the realization that he was certainly going to get Howard killed helped Vince to control his libido. Howard was long and strong (in every way), but he had no control over his limbs. It was like he was still going through puberty and hadn't yet adapted to his height or growing hair 'down there'. Not even Naboo seemed to have any help to offer. Vince fell asleep, inches from Howard, terrified but horny and those conflicting feelings played out in his dreams.

Then he saved Howard. It was amazing. Howard was about to get his face bitten off, but Vince came to his rescue. Admittedly, Howard had already been pretty badly beaten, but Howard had a face that could handle a few scars. The point was, Vince saved Howard and for the first time in his life, Vince felt like an adult.

Maybe that was what gave him to nerve to kiss Howard. He was gently wiping the blood from his friend's face as Howard moaned about Gideon when the thought popped into his head that he could silence Howard with a kiss, and that's what he did. He tried to be gentle so as not to hurt Howard further, but Howard grabbed him by the hair and kissed him back long and hard. When they broke apart, they stared at each other in silence for what felt like forever. Vince had no idea how to proceed and Howard had that look on his face. That look that said, "Am I doing this right?"

Vince stroked Howard's cheek and said, "You're doing great, Howard. Genius."

Howard looked confused, but he pulled himself to his feet and kissed Vince again. Vince felt like a heroine on the cover of one of his mum's bodice rippers as he was snogged by his strapping, bloodied warrior. He was afraid to touch Howard, knowing he was covered in bruises, but there was one part he knew was injury free. He lightly stroked Howard through his trunks and for a moment, he thought Howard was going to come on the spot. Howard pulled back, panting and squeezing his eyes closed, but Vince lightly touched his arm and promised, "It's fine, Howard. You're doing fine."

When Howard kissed him again, it was harder and more passionate. He fumbled with Vince's trousers and Vince got a rush every time Howard's big hands brushed his erection. He'd always admired Howard's big hands, but had never considered their erotic potential. When Howard finally clasped Vince's bare cock in his hand, Vince whimpered into Howard's mouth as he came on Howard's hand and hip.

"Well, when Howard Moon takes things in hand..." Howard whispered in a husky voice. Vince didn't let him finish his thought. Before he could lose his nerve, he turned around and grabbed hold of the kitchen counter, offering Howard his bare backside in what he hoped was a clear invitation.

"Um... Vince?"

Not clear enough. Vince grabbed a bottle of olive oil from a nearby shelf and handed it to Howard.

Vince stared straight ahead, trying to slow his breathing so he could hear what Howard was doing. He felt weak at the knees when Howard's slippery hand reached between Vince's legs and gently stroked his spent cock and testicles. Only Howard could make the touch feel almost innocent and very, very sweet. Howard stroked his wet fingers along Vince's arse before slipping into his crack. Vince was prepared for some discomfort, but Howard was slow and careful as he opened Vince. When he finally entered Vince (after Vince had to yell at him to get on with it) it was a good kind of ache. It was like being too full after Christmas dinner.

"Is it... Am I hurting you?" Howard asked in a shaky voice.

"Fuck me, Howard. You feel so good."

Howard was slow and careful, gently cupping Vince's cock and balls like they were delicate treasures. Considering what they were doing in a Keeper hut kitchen, Howard's tenderness was almost funny. It was Howard's way to be at odds with his surroundings, that's why Vince loved him so much.

"I love you," Vince said, before he had time to think. Howard apparently got off on declarations of love, because he began fucking Vince in long and steady strokes. Vince was hard again and Howard's dick was doing amazing things to his body. Vince had never felt so overwhelmed or excited in his life.

"Love you, Howard," he said it like a mantra as Howard took him, his body feeling as warm and solid as... Vince had never felt anything so warm and solid. Being bummed by Howard felt like finding home.

When Howard came, Vince could feel his cock pulsing and the splash of wetness deep inside of him. Vince came with Howard still inside him, panting against his neck and stroking him with a still slippery hand. They were definitely going to have to replace the near empty bottle of olive oil.

With his pants around his ankles and his semen on the kitchen counter, Vince felt a need to let Howard know he wasn't making a habit of shagging men in the keeper hut. He wanted Howard to know what had happened was special, if a little on the seedy side.

"Well, Mr. Moon. You defeated the Killeroo and deflowered a virgin. All in all, not a bad day. Right?"

Vince hesitated to meet Howard's eyes until he felt the Northerner's hands on his hips. Howard had a strange smile on his face when he said, "No, sir. Not bad at all."

Vince looked at Howard's bruised and bloodied face. He still needed to clean his friend up. And then start the whole process again. But first, another kiss.


	2. Tundra Fixit by castie67

Dixon Bainbridge’s arrival at the Zooniverse had everyone on edge, with the exception of Vince Noir. Vince didn’t give a shit one way or another about the man or his accomplishments, but it was obvious that Bob Fossil was smitten. Even more disturbing to Vince was the fact that Howard seemed so taken by the great explorer. Vince realized that his best mate was jealous of Bainbridge’s accomplishments (and his moustache), but Vince was slightly fearful that Howard, like Fossil, had something of a man crush on Bainbridge. Vince’s fears manifested themselves in the form of verbal barbs at Howard’s feelings of inadequacy, which only made Howard more insecure and obsessive about Bainbridge. This obsession made Vince jealous and even more snarky. It was a vicious cycle.

To Vince’s credit, whenever he tried to be nice to Howard, he was rebuffed. When Vince tried to massage Howard’s shoulders to ease his tension, Howard repeatedly shrugged him off, all the while staring obsessively at Bainbridge. Vince wished that Howard would stare at him with that kind of admiration and respect. Truth be told, Vince longed for Howard to look at him with love and adoration radiating from his eyes, but he would settle for respect. Vince had the feeling that Howard looked through him without really seeing him at all. Vince couldn’t help wondering if Howard would shrug off Dixon Bainbridge’s touch. Bainbridge was a true man of action, the type of man Howard respected. Was he also the type of man Howard could love?  
When Howard went on about his double, Joycie Banacek, Vince tried to jump on the bandwagon by creating his own double, Trisha. Vince had learned long ago that imitation was the sincerest form of flattery. He longed to connect with Howard, to share something with him, to divert his attention away from Bainbridge to himself. Again, Howard blew him off, angry that Vince was copying him. Hurt and angry, Vince retaliated by telling Bainbridge that it had taken Howard a month to grow his sparse moustache. If Vince wasn’t going to get any attention from Howard, he was going to make sure that Howard received nothing but ridicule from the object of his obsession.

Late that night, lying in his sleeping bag on the floor of the Keeper’s Hut next to Howard, Vince was awakened from his light slumber by a moan from Howard. “Noooo, Vince,” Howard mumbled in his sleep. “Bainbridge, nooooo.”

Vince reached out and stroked Howard’s brow. Howard’s hair was beginning to look a little shaggy. The Midnight Barber would need to make a call very soon; but right now, Vince needed to concentrate on comforting Howard. “Shhh, Howard, it’s alright,” Vince whispered soothingly. Vince was pleased when Howard settled down at his touch; Vince even dared to drape his arm across Howard’s midriff and snuggled into his side.

Before Vince could drift back to sleep, however, Howard suddenly sat bolt upright. “Bainbridge, no! VINCE!!!” he shouted. Vince snatched his hand away, as if he’d been burned. Howard, fully awake at last, looked sheepish. “Sorry, Little Man, bad dream,” he mumbled.

“D’you want to talk about it, Howard?” Vince offered timidly. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know why Howard had been moaning Bainbridge’s name.

“I, uh, don’t really remember what it was about,” Howard said awkwardly, shifting his eyes about and looking everywhere but at Vince. “Sorry to wake you.” Howard laid back down, pulled his sleeping bag up to his chin and turned his back on Vince. Vince lay awake in the darkness, tears pooling up in his eyes. Why, oh why did Howard did Howard push him away at every turn? And why had he been dreaming about Bainbridge?

Finally, Vince saw his chance to gain Howard’s respect when Howard turned his obsession to the fabled Egg of Mantumbi, which Bainbridge had failed to locate on his recent trip to the Arctic. Vince had called his pal, Gary Neuman, who personally flew Vince and Howard to the Arctic in his private plane. For an instant, Howard had seemed impressed; but once they were deposited in the Arctic, his attention turned to the location of the Egg and he once again began treating Vince like the hired help. He was dismissive of Vince’s amazing, sleek glam rock ski suit, which Vince had bought for the express purpose of catching Howard’s eye. Vince, meanwhile, looked almost hungrily at the figure Howard cut in his mink coat. He longed to stroke the soft fur and have Howard stroke him in return.

Despite the fact that Vince discovered the frozen body of Biggie Shackleton, the last known person to learn the location of the Egg of Mantumbi, Howard was keen to take credit for himself. He set Vince to work recovering the frozen last words of the great explorer while he put the stove on and fantasized about how he would receive fame, fortune, and respect for his discovery. Vince wished that Howard fantasized about him. He anticipated spending the cold arctic night squeezed into the tiny tent with Howard. Maybe Howard would let Vince zip their sleeping bags together for extra warmth. These hopes were quickly put on ice (literally) when Vince’s phone went off and drowned out the last thawed-out word of Biggie Shackleton which would have revealed the location of the coveted Egg of Mantumbi. Incensed with anger, Howard physically tossed Vince out of the tent into the frozen Arctic night and put him on night watch. Despite Howard’s warning to stay awake, Vince promptly fell asleep.

Vince was awakened by a huge, white, furry mass that dragged him away from the tiny tent. When Vince realized that the polar bear had not outright killed him, his fear evaporated and he began to talk to his captor. As it turned out, the polar bear had no intention of eating Vince, nor was it his intention to kidnap him. The bear was lonely; it was as simple as that. Vince quickly discovered that he and the polar bear got on quite well. The bear loved to sing and dance, and he openly admired Vince’s glam rock ski suit and pink furry boots. The two of them spent the night and the greater part of the next day having a party on the ice. Vince had a marvelous time, but he missed Howard. He also knew from past experience that Howard tended to find trouble whenever he was separated from Vince. Vince reluctantly told the polar bear that he needed to go and search for his friend. As he said goodbye, Vince heard the bear utter the saddest words he’d ever heard: “Hold me.”

Although the bear denied having said those words, Vince knew what he had heard. He sat himself down next to the polar bear and wrapped his arm around him in a half-hug. As he sat there cuddling his new friend, Vince couldn’t help wishing that he was holding Howard instead. Or better, yet, that Howard was holding Vince, keeping him safe against the elements. After promising the bear that he would keep in touch, Vince gave him a final squeeze, kissed him on the nose, and went in search of Howard.

He found Howard in the cave of the tiny Parka People, who were the guardians of the Egg. Howard and Vince’s botched attempt to steal the Egg of Mantumbi from the Parka People landed them in an icy prison, tied together, and awaiting death from the horrendous Black Frost. Trussed up back-to-back, the friends shared a crimp, a laugh, and a few shared memories. Then Howard told Vince that he loved him. Leave it to Howard to wait until they were about to die to make a confession of love. As much as he longed to hear the words, “I love you, Vince,” come from Howard’s mouth, Vince was struck by the ludicrousness of the situation. He started to laugh. His laughter angered Howard and he wouldn’t be appeased, even after Vince made his own confession of love.

They were rapidly descending into a domestic spat when Dixon Bainbridge arrived on the scene and took the Egg of Mantumbi after mocking Howard cruelly. Before Bainbridge could escape with the Egg, the Black Frost arrived on the scene and froze Bainbridge where he stood. Before he could do the same to Howard and Vince, the Vince’s polar bear friend showed up and made short work of the Black Frost.

Vince was overjoyed to see his furry friend. After the polar bear freed them from their bonds, Vince and the polar bear embraced. Vince thanked him, introduced him to Howard, and claimed the amazing boots worn by the Black Frost as his own. Howard took possession of the Egg of Mantumbi.  
“Shall I call Gary, then, and have him pick us up, Howard?” Vince asked, pulling his cell phone from his pocket.

“Wait, Little Man,” Howard said.

“What is it, Howard? We should hurry!” Vince turned to see why Howard was dawdling and was swept up in his arms.

“I meant it when I said I love you, Vince.” Howard looked Vince straight in the eye as he spoke. “I was frantic when I thought you’d been taken by the polar bear. I thought you were dead. I didn’t care about the egg anymore. All I could think about was how lost I felt without you.” Howard pressed his lips to Vince’s. Vince was a bit taken aback, but wasted no time in kissing Howard back. They stood in the icy cave, exchanging slow, wet kisses until the polar bear awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Right, then, I guess you should call Gary now, get us out of here,” Howard blustered, breaking the kiss and looking self-conscious. Vince was disappointed, but he made the call. Gary arrived quickly and flew them back to the Zooniverse. Nothing was said about love or kisses on the plane ride home.

They had been back home for a full day when Vince made his way to the Keeper’s Hut after a long day of feeding the animals and mucking out cages. He hadn’t seen much of Howard all day and was surprised to find that Howard was already in the hut. He was even more surprised to see that Howard was wearing his mink coat that he’d worn in the Arctic. “Oi, Howard! You cold, or somethin’?” Vince asked with a cheeky grin. He glanced at the floor of the hut and saw that Howard had already laid out their sleeping bags, even though they had not yet even eaten dinner.

“No, Little Man. I’m actually quite warm.” Howard let his coat fall open and Vince gaped when he saw that Howard was wearing nothing underneath except for a pair of little pink pants that hid nothing of Howard’s obvious arousal. “Take off your boots, Vince.”

Vince hurried to remove his boots. They were the same red cowboy boots he had taken from Black Frost. Howard wasted no time in stripping the rest of Vince’s clothing from his body. Howard removed his mink coat and spread it over the sleeping bags. He then laid Vince down on the coat. The soft fur tickled Vince’s skin, as did Howard’s moustache as he began kissing his way down Vince’s naked body. Vince writhed with the sensation and spread his legs. Howard kissed the tip of his cock and cradled his balls before reaching for the tube he had laid next to the make-shift bed.

Howard shed his pink pants, lubed his fingers, and eased one slick digit inside of Vince. Vince was nearly overwhelmed by the intimacy of the act; no one had ever before touched him there. Howard was all gentleness as he explored, but Vince’s undoing was the look of utter tenderness that Howard bestowed on him as he carefully fingered him. At long last, Howard was looking at him. Eyes locked with Vince’s, Howard quirked one eyebrow as he crooked his finger and found Vince’s prostate; Vince gave a little whimper and came.

Later on, when Howard was buried inside of Vince with Vince’s legs wrapped around his waist, Vince finally had to close his eyes against the intensity of Howard’s gaze. He let himself be carried away by the sensations of being filled by Howard and the gentle thrusts of Howard cock rubbing against his sweet spot over and over.

“Open your eyes, Little Man,” Howard softly commanded. Vince obeyed and was again overcome by the love and tenderness in Howard’s eyes. “Are you okay? Does it feel good? I want to make you feel good.”

“Howard,” Vince gasped as his orgasm overtook him, “it’s genius!”

Howard looked almost smug as he gave a few final thrusts and came inside of Vince. He carefully withdrew, cleaned them both up, then pulled Vince into his arms as he wrapped the mink coat around them both. “Alright, Little Man?”

“Alright, Howard,” Vince murmured as he snuggled up close, tucking his head underneath Howard’s chin. “Can we do that again later?”

“I was counting on it.”

“Will you wear the coat while you’re doin’ it?” Vince looked up shyly to catch Howard’s eyes once more.

Howard’s gaze was positively predatory as he answered. “Yes, Little Man. I’ll wear the coat. And you’ll wear your boots.”


	3. Call of the Yeti Fixit by castie67

Kodiak Jack took a long, last look around his hunting cabin before he hefted his pack to his shoulder and exited the premises, closing the door behind him. As he tramped down the porch steps and shuffled through the pine needles and leaves toward his little lean-to a few meters from the cabin, he cast little furtive glances over his shoulder and nervously wiped at the sweat trickling down his face. Jack didn’t own anything so fancy as one of those clock thingies that you tied to your arm, so he had no idea of the actual hour, but it was dark; he was running out of time. What if the visitor didn’t show?

For years, Kodiak Jack had lived in this forest, co-existing (if not exactly peacefully) with his fellow creatures. Most of the wildlife gave Jack a wide berth. The human reeked of liquor and unwashed flesh, and he did not hesitate to sink his knife into any animal that crossed his path. The only creature in this vast wilderness that Jack actually feared was the Yeti.

The first time Jack encountered the legendary creatures, he had been wandering along Piney Ridge on a moonlit night. He had suddenly found himself surrounded by tall, furry creatures who grabbed him, stripped him, put him in a dress, and proceeded to serenade him. The Yeti were confused that Jack seemed immune to their trance. They were also repulsed by his odor. No matter how much they tried bathing and perfuming their victim, the rancid stench clung to his body. Finally, one of them spoke up. “It’s no use. We can’t put him in the queen’s bed smelling like that. She’ll never agree to mate with that one.”

The queen was desperate and horny, however. She tied a cloth around her face, and she and Jack went at it. It had been a long time for Jack, too, and he didn’t find the experience at all unpleasant. The queen, however, still had a few standards. “Kill him!” she commanded when she was finished with him. “He cannot be entranced. He knows where we live. I refuse to mate with him again.”

“Now, hold on!” Jack protested. “I can help!”

At that point, Jack and the Yeti struck a deal. Jack was allowed to live in his cabin in the forest. In exchange, he promised to provide a suitable man to the Yeti every 25 years on their breeding night. Jack had the brilliant idea of renting out his cabin to some unsuspecting stranger, then luring him to Piney Ridge where nature would take its course, so to speak.

As Jack crouched in his lean-to, he nervously watched the road. If his lodger didn’t show, Jack would have no choice but to leave his paradise in the woods before the Yeti hunted him down, castrated him, and killed him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally spotted headlights and watched the van park in front of the cabin.

He’d spoken on the talkie stick to a man named Mars, or Saturn, or something like that, so Jack was a little surprised when not one, but four people got out of the van. The tallest was dressed all in brown tweed with a cowboy hat on his head. The shortest wore a dress and had a towel wrapped around his head. One of them needed a shave even worse than Jack himself. And the fourth - - Jack sucked in his breath at the sight. Jack had never laid his eyes on a more beautiful vision than the young lady who accompanied the three men. Jack felt a stirring in his loins. If he played his cards right, the Yeti queen wouldn’t be the only one getting shagged tonight.

Jack furrowed his brow and scratched his balls. Getting this vision of loveliness alone might be a problem, seeing as how she was accompanied by three men. Surely she must be with one of them, although Jack didn’t view any of the three of them to be much competition to himself. Things began to look up when the door to the cabin opened and the little guy and the hairy guy climbed in the van and drove off. Jack crept out of his hiding place and made his way toward the cabin.

Peering in the filthy window, Jack spied the object of his affection sitting at the table, her chin propped up by one hand while the other hand doodled idly on a pad of paper. The brown tweedy man in the cowboy hat stood across the room, talking and gesturing toward an easel. Propped on the easel were pictures of various animals and plants. Jack couldn’t read very well, but he knew what a picture of two rutting fireflies looked like. Clearly, the pretty lady was with this idiot and they were engaging in foreplay! Jack knew he needed to move fast before things followed their natural course. He burst through the door without knocking.

The two inhabitants of the cabin looked up, startled, and the man immediately leapt in front of the woman, shielding her from Jack. The woman cowered behind the man, further confirming Jack’s suspicions that the two were a couple. Jack was quick to assure the young lovers that he was the owner of the cabin. The pair relaxed, and introductions were made. The girl’s name was Vince, and Jack was surprised at how deep her voice was. The idiot in the cowboy hat did most of the talking, however; and Jack largely ignored everything he had to say, transfixed as he was by Vince’s beauty. When Vince showed Jack her scar from her crimpers, Jack nearly came in his pants. Jack needed to separate the pair quickly.

He invited the man (Hayley Comet?) out on the porch for a drink and a smoke. After the man (Harold?) relaxed, Jack began asking about his relationship with Vince. The man assured Jack they were not on their honeymoon, not even really a couple. Jack was ecstatic, but he had trouble believing that the two were “just friends.” Surely the man in the cowboy hat was trying to hide something from Jack about his relationship with Vince. A man didn’t get all dressed up in tweed and drive his lady friend out to a remote cabin in the woods to go birdwatching. Jack was having trouble piecing together the cowboy’s intentions toward Vince.

When Jack suggested that Tall, Dark, and Tweed trade Vince for the map to the Yeti lair, he found himself pinned to the wall of the cabin with the man’s huge hand wrapped around his throat. “Don’t you dare touch him,” growled the man with more passion than Jack would have thought possible.  
Jack raised his hands in surrender. “I thought y’all weren’t together,” he whined. “I wouldn’t have suggested it, otherwise!”

“He’s not yours for the taking. He’s innocent, he’s naïve, he’s something pure, not to be sullied by the likes of yourself, no sir! Howard Moon won’t allow that to happen.”

“Then I’ll just leave you this map as a sign of my goodwill and be on my way,” Jack choked out as he carefully extricated himself from Howard’s grip. He shoved the map into Howard’s hands and escaped into the woods. From his little lean-to shack hidden by the trees, Jack watched as Howard examined the map, popped his head inside the cabin to say something to Vince, then closed the cabin door and headed out into the woods toward Piney Ridge.  
Jack was beside himself with joy and arousal. The Yeti queen would have her mating partner, and Jack would have Vince all to himself. He all but ran to a nearby spring to wash the visible dirt from his face. He braided his beard, picked a few wildflowers for his new lady-love (but why had Howard called her a “he”?), then skipped back toward the cabin where he planned to deflower his precious Vincey.

Ten minutes later, Jack was howling his way back to his hidey-hole with his nose blistered red from Vince’s Nicky Clarke crimpers. Vince hadn’t appreciated Jack’s advances at all, and Jack would have the scars to show for it. Jack consoled himself with the thought that at least the Yeti queen would be satisfied by Howard. She, at least, would get laid tonight, and Jack would be allowed to stay in the forest.

While nursing his wounds, Jack kept a watchful eye on the cabin. The furry guy and turban boy had returned just as Jack was making his escape from Vince. Within minutes, the two left again, this time accompanied by Vince. The three of them left in their van, driven by a ninja. Jack had a sneaking suspicion they were headed to Piney Ridge. If the Yeti caught a glimpse of Vince, she would certainly be taken. All of the Yeti would want the opportunity to breed with such a lovely human specimen. Overcome with jealousy at the thought, Jack followed a shortcut to Piney Ridge. He had to rescue his Vincey. Surely Vince would then be willing to show his gratitude to Jack by offering up her body. At the very least, Jack was hopeful of a quick handjob.

By the time Jack arrived at the Yeti lair, all four of Jack’s guests were under a trance and laid out on the Yeti’s huge bed. Before the queen could make her move, however, Jack burst into the clearing, firing a shot from his rifle. “Run, Vincey!”

Vince and his friends were awakened from their trance and ran into the woods, pursued by one of the Yeti. Jack turned his gun on the rest of the group, but was appalled when it wouldn’t fire.

Jack found himself pinned to the bed by the entire tribe of horny Yeti. Once again, complaints were made about how bad he smelled, but desperation won out. Just as they had 25 years earlier, the Yeti mated with Jack. After the Yetis’ appetite had been sated, they sat around the fire and discussed Jack’s fate. The queen wanted to kill him, of course, but one of the younger female Yeti had secretly taken a shine to Jack over the past 25 years. She begged the queen for Jack’s life, but was saddened when the queen decreed that Jack must leave the forest that night.

Jack made his way out of the woods and managed to catch a lift into the nearest village. Upon making his way to a roadside inn, he was surprised to see a familiar van parked outside. It looked as if his lodgers had decided to stop for the rest of the night instead of going all the way back to London.  
Jack walked around the outside of the building, peering into windows. Most of the rooms held slumbering lodgers. He spotted the furry guy in one room, sprawled out over the bed, snoring loudly. The little guy was with him, sitting on the other bed puffing on a hookah.

Jack crept to the next window, took a peek, and nearly swallowed the tobacco he was chewing. Vince was definitely a man. No doubt about it. Vince was laid out on the bed like a beautiful vision, his cock erect and on display for all to see. He was still wearing the white Yeti dress, but it was rucked up around his waist and he was wearing nothing underneath. His legs were spread and Howard, wearing only his cowboy hat, knelt between them.  


The window was open a crack, and Jack raised it a bit higher so he could hear, as well as see, what was going on. “Is that all right, Little Man?” Howard was saying. “I’m not hurting you?” Jack could see that Howard was fucking Vince with his fingers and that Vince was in no pain whatsoever.

Vince panted and shook his head. “No, Howard, feels good! Right there!” Vince thrust back to meet Howard’s fingers.

“That mountain man wanted you. The Yeti wanted you. I don’t want anyone to have you but me, Vince.” Howard spoke softly as he gently stretched Vince’s opening with his fingers.

“I’m yours, Howard, it’s always been you ‘n’ me,” Vince gasped. “Need you, Big Man!”

Jack began to stroke himself through his trousers as he watched Howard withdraw his fingers, roll on a condom, and slowly enter Vince. Howard only managed a couple of thrusts before he was coming inside of Vince and Jack was coming in his pants.

Jack was about to climb through the window and suggest a three-way, when he heard someone approach. Darting into the shadows, he overheard part of the conversation of the two men passing by. “Aye, they say he lurks in the depths of Black Lake, looking for a man to mate with. Part man, part fish, he is. Well, they call him a man-fish, but they say he has lady parts, too.”

Jack was captivated. Lady man-fish? Jack picked up his pack, walked back toward the road, and stuck out his thumb. Surely one of the passing cars would be heading in the direction of Black Lake.


	4. Fountain of Youth Fixit by concupiscence66

Howard wasn't ashamed of his body. It wasn't quite what he wanted. In his mind, he was always a bit more willowy than he looked in the mirror. If the rest of his body looked like his legs, he'd be set.

But even with a little extra padding, Howard was fine with his physique. He was a bit more freckled than he'd like, but that was a minor thing. He bore the scars of a kettle of boiling water falling on him when he was a child, but that was more of a source of pride than anything. When others claimed to love tea, he could show the remnants of the third degree burn a five-year-old Howard earned while trying to make his own tea. The scars weren't as bad as they should have been, his mother had doted on him with balms and ointments, blaming herself for the accident, but Howard knew it wasn't her fault. Since he was in short pants, no one came between Howard and his tea. He vaguely remembered the pain and was certain it had been well worth the battle scars (and the haul of presents he got from his parents that year).

Wearing a loincloth and chains, Howard didn't feel ashamed of his body. He just felt vaguely uncomfortable, and determined not to let Vince see his discomfort. Instead of helping him when Howard was hauled off in chains, the newly "Chosen" Vince had laughed and told the thugs that Howard liked to show off his legs.

The loincloth showed off much more than just his legs. As he went about his new routine of brushing Vince's hair and washing his clothes, Howard struggled to find ways to bend and crouch down without being obscene. Instead of sympathy, he got laughter from Vince as he tried to keep his meat and potatoes in their place. When they got back to Earth, Howard would rain his fury all over Vince and have his revenge. He wasn't sure how, but it was going to happen.

Then a lovely woman told him how. And she noticed his legs.

xxx

Vince heard Howard's 'stealthy' footsteps a mile away. Howard was rubbish at being quiet, just like he was rubbish at all of his other tasks as Vince's personal slave. Vince had imagined a Jeeves and Bertie Wooster situation, complete with the unspoken sexual element. Instead of being a helpmeet, Howard was just being a dick. He was careless with Vince's clothes, and even worse with his make-up. The one time he allowed Howard to apply his make-up for him, the excitement of Howard's large hand holding his face still and intimacy of Howard's breath on his face reached the unsatisfying climax of Vince looking like Mrs. Slocombe from "Are You Being Served?" When Vince tried to offer a gentle critique, Howard threw a pitcher of water on him.

It shouldn't have been a surprise that Howard was refusing to join in the fun. Howard had to have things his way or he'd gather his toys and go home. As his 'toys' were currently gathered in a loincloth and his home was on another planet, Howard fell back on being surly and a spoil sport. It would have been nice if Howard had thrown himself into the role and they could have had a bit of cheeky fun, but that wasn't Howard's way.

Though he did do a good job brushing Vince's hair. Vince hated having his hair touched once he'd gotten in sorted out for the day, but he loved the feeling of someone else playing with it before he went to bed and first thing in the morning. Howard's long fingers were like massaging wands on Vince's scalp. Sometimes Vince took a shower in the middle of the day just to have an excuse to have Howard brush his hair one extra time. It would have been better if Howard weren't swearing and complaining the whole time, but Vince had long ago learned to take what he could get from Howard.

Vince listened to Howard stumbling about in his tent, curious what his friend was up to. Howard was being surly about the whole 'personal slave' thing, so Vince was prepared for some attempt at revenge. He was armed with a jug of water and a travel sized can of Goth Juice if Howard tried anything awful like damaging Vince's boots. Vince always kept a weapon on hand when he slept since coming to Xooberon. The head blue guy gave him the creeps. In fact, everyone seemed to be responding to Vince's sexy Chosen One persona except for Howard.

Vince stayed perfectly still, careful to keep his breathing even, prepared for anything.

Prepared for anything except Howard lightly resting his hand on Vince's belly. Vince forced himself to continue breathing evenly as Howard slid his hand up toward Vince's chest. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest with mixture of excitement and trepidation. As much as he dearly wanted to be caressed by Howard, that Howard seemed to be trying to do it while Vince slept was more than a bit creepy.

Then Howard tried to lift the amulet. The small-eyed, corduroy-loving fucker tried to steal the amulet right off of Vince's neck. Vince spent all day, sprawled out like Cleopatra and working a peacock feather for all he was worth, and Howard just wanted the stupid amulet.

It was nothing to knock Howard over and onto his back. He wasn't the slightest bit prepared for Vince to fight back. As usual, Howard underestimated him.

"Vince!" Howard whispered as Vince held him down with his body weight. "It's just me, Howard."

"I know it's you, you berk!" Vince hissed before remembering he was the Chosen One. He continued in a more measured and sensuous tone. "Did you really think you could steal from the Chosen One?"

Even in the dark, Vince could tell Howard was rolling his eyes. He reached out to turn on an oil lamp, still straddling Howard's waist. Howard could throw him off easily enough, but Vince could always call the guards again. He wasn't worried about Howard struggling. Howard couldn't get away.

Far from struggling, Howard was being strangely still. Of course, there was no way for Howard to lie in Vince's bed in a loincloth and chains that wouldn't seem a bit strange. It wasn't exactly their normal routine.

It was a nice change of pace.

Vince grabbed Howard's wrists and pulled them over his head. Howard's eyes darted about, but he was completely limp in Vince's hands. Well, not completely limp. Howard's erection was rubbing against Vince's arse.

"If you'll just get off of me, I'll be going..." Howard's bravado was undermined by the tremulous sound of his voice. Vince impulsively stroked Howard's cheek in what was meant to be a soothing gesture. Howard flinched at first, but he ultimately allowed the touch.

"What's the rush?"

Howard licked his lips and averted his eyes. Vince shifted his weight so he could get a better look at Howard's legs stretching out behind him. They were some seriously long legs and the way they were sprawled across Vince's bed was downright obscene. Vince ran a hand along Howard's thigh and was bucked off Howard's waist like a cowboy at a rodeo. He landed on his back, but quickly recovered and threw himself back on top of Howard.

"That's enough, Little Man," Howard hissed, trying to quietly maneuver out from under Vince.

Vince was so frustrated (in more ways than one) that he could cry. He was tempted to call the guards and come up with some new torture for Howard, but he decided - for once - to just say what they were both thinking.

"Howard," he whispered directly into Howard's ear. "You can keep fighting and being a dick because this little game didn't work out the way you wanted, or you can just let me win for once and we can both have a good time..."

"You always win," Howard hissed, looking downright hostile.

"Not with you," Vince snapped back, digging his fingernails into Howard's shoulders. The faint scars on his shoulders from a long ago burn were already softening Vince's resolve, so he closed his eyes. "You never let me win or be in charge or admit there's anything special about me. You make me be mean to you..."

"I make you be mean to me? Are you listening to yourself?" Howard retorted, still keeping his voice quiet.

Vince opened his eyes and looked at Howard's furious and wildly misguided face. Vince rubbed at the banana shaped marks his nails left in Howard's skin. Then he tried to touch Howard's hair, but the big man flinched away.

Vince was tempted to give up, but he knew he'd spend the rest of his life regretting it. Howard was dressed in a slave costume in chains on Vince's royal bed. He had to fight for a bit of naughty fun.

"I can let you go back to your tent and we can spend the rest of our adventure with me giving you orders and you refusing to do anything right, or we can play this Chosen One/Slave thing properly and have a good time. I already know which one you're going to choose, but I want you to know I don't fucking get it."

xxx

Howard had been a bright, but easily distracted child. Although he knew he was clever, he could never properly pay attention in class. Any time he was asked a question, he got the chokes. Even if he knew the correct answer, he didn't have a chance because he didn't hear the question or the context. He was usually daydreaming about being a great musician or actor or writer and his instructors never asked about jazz or food-based poetry.

In those days, Vince had been his only saving grace, but now it was Vince putting him on the spot. Howard had been certain they were bickering, but suddenly Vince was looking at him like they hadn't been fighting at all. Vince was sitting on Howard's waist, wearing a short silky dress type thing that was apparently considered a nightshirt on Naboo's stupid planet. As much as Howard tried to focus on blue berks and the unfairness of life, his body was responding to the intimacy and to the delicate and revealing fabric. Vince shifted his weight again, his backside brushing against Howard's treacherous erection as he again ran a hand along Howard's thigh. Howard fought the urge to avoid the touch and assume it was meant to be mocking. Howard's legs were slim, but powerful. Maybe Vince really was admiring them instead of thinking about how they were like "hose pipes propping up a beanbag". Anything was possible.

And when Vince's hand moved just inches from Howard's loincloth, Howard took a moment to wonder if the movement was mocking or teasing or just...

"I haven't, you know, I mean, I know I seem like a man of the world and I am a man of the world..."

Vince pressed a finger to Howard's mouth. Normally, Howard would have continued talking, but Vince had a very sweet look on his face. It was the face he'd worn a lot when they were at school together.

"S'all right, Howard. We can do whatever you like." Vince's wide-eyed look and gentle tone were incongruous with his indecent proposal, but Howard felt surprisingly at ease.

"I've not done anything," Howard admitted. "And if you laugh at me, I'll strangle you with your own amulet before you have a chance to call the guards."

Vince continued to smile sweetly, "I won't call the guards, Howard. Unless you displease me."

Vince spoke the last sentence in his Chosen One voice. As back in his school days, when he heard another student giving the simple answer to the teacher's question, Howard wondered why it was so hard for him to keep up with the others. He had assumed Vince's seductive behavior was meant to add to his torment at once again being second banana to Vince, but now he could see Vince was just being sexy for the sake of being sexy.

"I will do my best to please the Chosen One," Howard responded, trying to sound sexy but feeling silly.

Vince stroked Howard's cheek and pressed a kiss to his forehead before telling him to roll over.

All of Howard's instincts told him to argue and fight, but his erection was firmly (very firmly) on Vince's side. If things got out of hand, Howard could always call things to a halt. Vince might call the guards on him, but all they ever did was take him back to his own tent and tell him to, "stop being a prick." There hadn't been any beatings since Vince realized he was in charge.

Howard tried to rela, and act like being in a loincloth on a strange planet with his best mate kissing his back was normal. Vince helped by massaging him with the same sweetly scented oil he forced Howard to rub into his cuticles every night. As Howard melted under Vince's firm hands, he regretted wasting his opportunity to touch Vince. He'd been so focused on not letting Vince get his way, he'd missed a chance to enjoy touching Vince. Since puberty, Howard had been set on keeping a physical distance between them, always afraid of their hormones destroying their friendship. Of course Vince, the sensualist, had never understood the wisdom of keeping at an arm's distance.

When Vince's hands were at Howard's waist, healthy boundaries in a friendship seemed over-rated.

"Can I take this off?" Vince asked, tugging at the fabric of Howard's tiny costume. He couldn't force himself to speak, but he lifted his hips and helped Vince wriggle him out of his undersized outfit. He felt exposed and vulnerable, but there was no threat to his ego in Vince's gentle hands as they massaged his arse and thighs. Even Howard was having trouble imagining that it was all an elaborate plot for Vince to mock Howard's skinny legs or soft waistline. When Vince carefully stroked Howard's testicles with a warm and slippery hand, Howard felt pretty certain Vince's interest was sincere. Not even Vince would stroke someone's balls for a joke.

xxx

Vince ran his finger around Howard's tightly clenched sphincter until he began to relax a bit. Howard had a way of tensing up from head to toe. Vince massaged Howard's shapely arse with one hand while he tried to work a finger inside.

"I'm being generous because you're new to this," Vince said, pitching his voice as deep as he could. "In the future, you'll be expected to prepare yourself for the Chosen One."

Vince had hoped Howard would play along, but he wasn't expecting Howard to moan and shiver.

"This time, I'll show you what to do, so you'll know how to do everything just the way I like it," Vince purred.

"Yes, sir," Howard groaned. Vince was intimidated by Howard's excitement. He'd expected (and wanted) to be Howard's first male lover, but he hadn't expected Howard to have no experience at all. Like Vince, Howard was a bit awkward around women, but Vince had managed to acquire some experience over the years and assumed Howard had as well.

Vince kept his eyes on the back of Howard's neck as he managed to work the first finger inside.

"Breathe, Howard. You need to relax."

Although his response was barely audible, Vince knew it was along the lines of, "Yes, sir."

Vince slowly twisted his finger onside Howard's lovely arse, admiring the velvety soft skin.

"The Chosen One is pleased," Vince said in complete honesty. "You're body is very... pleasing."

Vince smiled when he saw Howard trying to suck in his gut. Vince had figured out at a young age that he wasn't a traditionally good-looking person, but he embraced his odd features and played up his natural androgyny. Howard, on the other hand, refused to work with what he had and was forever trying to look like someone else. Instead of enjoying his impressive height, Howard slouched. Instead of reveling in his long limbs, Howard tried to pull into himself. Howard even tried to straighten the sexy waves in his hair. If Vince looked like Howard, he would rock rakish curls and dress like Errol Flynn. His wardrobe would be full of ascots and pirate costumes and probably at least two Robin Hood outfits. It was no surprise Howard looked better in a loincloth than any outfit he owned.

"The Chosen One only favors the most beautiful and masculine of men in his bed," Vince continued as he started to work on a second finger. He needed Howard to start relaxing or there would be blue berks at his door with breakfast before Vince managed to get anything started. "But you are the finest specimen I've seen. The Chosen One is very pleased. Very pleased indeed."

Vince felt Howard relax and was touched that Howard honestly seemed to care about his opinion. He'd done nothing but hang on Howard for years, and yet somehow Howard didn't seem to understand that Vince found him beautiful. Howard could be incredibly thick at times.

But Vince was able to get three fingers inside of Howard's bottom and Howard was wiggling his arse for more. They were making real progress.

xxx

Howard tried to lose himself in Vince's words and imagine himself as sexy and desirable. Howard had never really understood what a bottom got out of anal sex other than it had something to do with the prostate. He wasn't prepared for the barrage of sensations from being touched there. He felt like every nerve ending in his body was being electrified. He wasn't sure if it felt good or if it hurt, but he knew he wanted more. He was painfully hard and sweating and Vince was being more patient than Howard would have thought possible. He felt completely ready for whatever Vince had in store.

Until he felt Vince's cock against his bare arse.

"Don't go stiff on me now, Howard," Vince ordered in an imperious voice. Howard heard Vince stifle a giggle before continuing. "I only want one part of you to be stiff. Roll over."

Howard squeezed his eyes closed as he rolled onto his back. He flinched when Vince touched his stomach, but Vince continued to be gentle and flattering, and Howard again tried to focus on the storyline Vince was creating. Vince loosely wrapped his hand around Howard's cock, giving it a few careless strokes as he commented on Howard's size and virility. Howard soon found himself struggling not to come and Vince's sudden laugher cut through the pleasant haze that had settled over Howard's brain. He was ready to give Vince a talking to, but then Vince kissed him. Howard had never kissed anyone before, and it was nothing like kissing the back of his own hand. Vince's mouth was seductive and inviting. Vince didn't say a word when Howard grabbed at his raven black hair, trying to pull him even closer. It was proof enough that Vince was enjoying the game just as much as Howard, that he could again relax. He felt a little awkward as Vince kissed his bare chest, but he noticed how Vince paid special attention to Howard's scars, kissing them like a they were boo-boos to be healed. It was very sweet and childish and Vince.

Howard wasn't prepared for Vince's mouth on his cock, and he came before he really knew what was happening. Vince continued to suck and lick Howard with obscene enthusiasm and vigor until he was spent. Howard eagerly kissed Vince without thinking and when Vince politely kept his mouth closed, Howard wondered if he could love Vince any more than he did at that moment. Of all the things that came easily to Vince, restraint was usually a tough one. Every act of restraint on Vince's part highlighted how hard he was trying for Howard's sake. Although it wasn't quite how he'd pictured his first time having sex, Howard was grateful to have a partner as generous and attentive as Vince. Vince could be a titbox, but he could also be a really good mate.

Howard licked at Vince's lips until he opened his mouth and let Howard's tongue explore his mouth. Inwardly, Howard rejoiced at his scandalous behavior. He was finally feeling like a man of action. And getting some action. He saved that play on words away to tell Vince at a more appropriate time.

"That was genius," Vince exclaimed, giving Howard an effusive hug. "We should do that more often."

Howard looked at Vince's prominent erection threatening to escape from beneath his short nightgown.

"I don't think we're quite finished, sir," Howard pointed out.

Vince mussed his hair and gave himself a few strokes through the soft material of his nightwear.

"I can take care of this. I know this was kind of a big deal..." Vince suddenly looked uncertain.

Howard tried to think of something seductive to say, before giving up and rolling onto his stomach and sticking his arse in the air.

"We don't have to actually go through with that," Vince squawked, suddenly sounding nervous. "I don't want to hurt you or anything."

"You won't," Howard declared, feeling confident he was right. Vince had been absurdly gentle when touching Howard. "I'm yours, after all. You are the Chosen One."

Vince laughed, but he moved into position behind Howard, his cock again at the crack of Howard's ass. It was scary, but thrilling. Vince began stretching Howard again, who found the process much easier now that he was relaxed. Vince was well-lubricated when he began to push his cock inside of Howard. It hurt a bit, but Vince took it slow and stroked Howard back to a state of excitement. Howard ended up coming on Vince's sheets and hand even before Vince came deep inside of Howard.

Then they lay in each other's arms in the near dark, not daring to speak.

When a guard came to check on Vince, he barked to go away as he was "enjoying" his personal slave.

Howard was about to protest, but then Vince began "enjoying" him and he decided there was no harm in letting Vince play the Chosen One a bit longer.

And he was already thinking of some new games to play when they got back to Earth.


	5. Crack Fox Fixit by castie67

It was the end of a very long, confusing night for Howard. As he and Vince trudged down the dark alley back to the Nabootique after saving Naboo from execution, Howard mentally played back the events of the day as best as he could piece them together.

It had started off well enough, with Howard going off to jazzercise after lecturing Vince on the dangers of urban foxes and instructing Vince to move the bin bags from the alley to the Designated Refuse Area. After a rousing exercise session of bebopping with his mates to John Coltrane, Howard had returned to the shop to discover Naboo in a rage and Vince twirling around mindlessly in a shiny cape. The cape was magnificent. It wasn’t exactly Howard’s style, mind you, but he could certainly understand why Vince was so taken by it. Vince was so easily distracted by sparkly fashion accessories and the cape was a beauty.

Nevertheless, Howard was baffled about why Naboo was so upset. It seemed that an urban fox who had been holed up in a pile of bin bags out back had gotten into the shop and stolen Naboo’s potion, but Howard had no idea why he was getting the blame. No one was more careful than Howard Moon about the proper disposal of bin bags, no sir. Naboo accused him of leaving the bin bags out back, sacked him, and turned his back on him. Vince, caught up in his new glittery cape, hadn’t even noticed, much less put in a good word for him. It didn’t take Howard long to figure out that the little titbox had lied and blamed Howard for the bin bags, as well as the fox and stolen potion. Outraged at the treatment he’d received from his flatmates and supposed friends, Howard left the shop and went in search of a new job and new friends.

He was almost immediately welcomed by the bin men, who offered him a job and their camaraderie. Feeling accepted and appreciated at long last, Howard quickly settled into his new job. As he worked through the streets and alleys of Dalston, Howard had time to consider Vince’s behavior. He knew that deep down, Vince meant him no real harm. It was clear from his behavior in the shop that he really didn’t even understand that Howard was sacked or actually leaving. He was a child, absorbed in his pretty new cape, and totally incapable of understanding the ramifications of his actions. All of this Howard understood, yet he was still hurt by Vince’s self-absorption. Just once, it would be nice if Vince showed Howard some proper consideration and respect, even if he no longer showered him with admiration and love.

Once upon a time, Howard had been the recipient of Vince’s unfettered affection and adoration, but Vince had grown harder and colder over the last couple of years. He’d gone from the sweet, kind child who had once hero-worshipped Howard to an obnoxious little brat. Howard couldn’t help but think that it was probably a good thing that they were parting ways. Vince clearly had no use for him anymore.

Howard mulled over all of these thoughts and memories as he loaded bin bags into the garbage truck. His reverie was interrupted by a familiar voice. “Hey, Howard!” He was startled to find Vince, still clad in his fancy cape, standing in the alley.

Howard was instantly on his guard. After what Vince had done, there was no way Howard was going to let him back into his good graces. After all, Howard had a new life now, along with new friends who accepted him. He wasn’t going to chuck all of that for a familiar, albeit pretty face attached to a lithe body clad in a red Joan Jett catsuit. Vince could apologize all he wanted, Howard Moon was not that easy.

Five minutes later, Howard had been appeased by Vince giving away his cape to Donnie the Tramp. Howard realized that in Vince’s childish mind, giving up his cape was the ultimate sacrifice. Vince was clearly worried about Naboo and he was showing uncommon good sense by seeking Howard’s help, rather than trying to fix things on his own. When Vince told Howard that Naboo and Bollo were sentenced by the Shaman Council to be executed over the loss of the Shaman Juice, Howard began to understand why Naboo was a bit cranky and might have overreacted. As Howard and Vince consulted the Plan Pony, Howard had to grudgingly admit to himself that Vince was doing his best to make amends and act like a responsible adult.  
The Plan Pony directed them down into the sewers where they encountered the Crack Fox and his minions, plotting to take over the world with the aid of the Shaman Juice. As they watched in horror, the Crack Fox consumed the Shaman Juice and turned his wrath on Vince. Before Howard could react, the Crack Fox was distracted by Donnie the Tramp, eager to repay Vince for giving him the cape. Ultimately, the Crack Fox met his doom, lured into a garbage truck and compacted with the rubbish.

Howard and Vince arrived with the Shaman Juice just in the nick of time to save Naboo and Bollo from execution. The Shaman decided to celebrate, and Naboo and Bollo were more than happy to stay and party with the Council. Howard, however, was exhausted from the events of the day and decided to return home. He was still dressed in his bin man uniform and he stank of refuse and the sewers. Although Vince had been in the same sewers, he still looked and smelled as fresh as he had first thing that morning. Howard was shocked, therefore, when Vince also decided to return home. It wasn’t like Vince to turn down a party of any kind.

Both Howard and Vince were completely silent on the cab ride home. Howard nervously cleared his throat a few times, but remained silent for fear of saying something harsh. Vince, to his credit, looked embarrassed and stared at his boots for most of the trip home. The cab stopped in the alley, near the back door of the Nabootique. Howard got out, and instinctively held out a hand to help Vince out of the cab. Vince took his hand without thinking. The cab sped away, and the two of them stood in the alley, staring at their joined hands. Before Howard could snatch his hand away, Vince grabbed on tight and twined their fingers together.

“I’m sorry, Howard! I lied to Naboo about the bin bags. I honestly didn’t know I’d get you sacked! I was just so excited over the cape….” Vince’s voice trailed off, but he refused to let go of Howard’s hand.

Howard sighed. “I know.” He was tired and sad, but no longer angry. He just wanted to go inside and go to bed. The sooner he could put this day behind him, the better off he would be. It was clear that shiny baubles meant more to Vince than Howard; Howard was going to have to get used to the fact that he was no longer the most important thing in Vince’s life. It hurt more than Howard cared to admit. He desperately missed his Little Man from the zoo times.

“You know, you look quite sexy in that bin man uniform.”

Howard looked up quickly to see if Vince was taking the piss, but instead he found Vince raking his eyes up and down Howard’s body. “You think so?” Howard asked warily.  
“Oh, yeah, it suits you!” Still holding Howard’s hand in his, Vince stroked Howard’s chest with his other hand. “You look really rugged and handsome.” Vince ducked his head and looked up at Howard through his fringe. “I understand why you might not be ready to accept my apology just yet. I’ve been quite naughty. Perhaps you should take me upstairs and teach me a lesson, yeah?”

Howard gulped. He felt a definite tightening of his trousers. “Yeah? What kind of lesson did you have in mind?”

“Oh, I dunno. I suppose you could make me wait on you a bit, fetch you your pipe and slippers, an’ all that.” Vince grinned slyly and pressed his lips to Howard’s. Howard’s head was spinning with ideas: the thought of Vince on his knees, removing Howard’s shoes; the thought of Vince on his knees between Howard’s legs; the thought of Vince on his knees….. Howard briefly deepened the kiss, then pulled away, turning a stern eye on Vince.

“I think that’s an excellent idea, Little Man, it’ll teach you to show some proper respect. Right after I put you over my knee and give you a good, sound spanking!” Feeling like a true man of action, Howard effortlessly tossed Vince over his shoulder and strode into the shop. Every time Vince squawked or kicked, Howard smacked his arse, which caused Vince to squawk and kick even more. “You’ve been very naughty, Vince, and naughty little boys get their bottoms smacked. I’m Howard Moon, sir, and I’m gonna come atcha like a - - a bin man, yessir, and I’m gonna nail your ass!”

“Are you gonna bum me, too, then? After you spank me?” Vince asked breathlessly. He didn’t sound scared; he sounded hopeful.

Howard gave Vince’s backside another smack. “I think that can be arranged,” he agreed cheerfully.

As Howard carried Vince up the stairs, his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of how quickly he could get Vince out of that catsuit, and whether or not Vince was wearing underwear. It crossed his mind that Vince had said something earlier that day about loincloths coming back into fashion. In spite of his previous exhaustion, Howard suddenly felt newly invigorated. It was fortunate that he had his second wind, because he had a sneaking suspicion that it was going to take all night to teach Vince his lesson.


	6. The Chokes Fixit by concupiscence66

“I think the two of you need couples’ counseling. Quit hogging the biscuits. They’re for everybody?”

Howard was relatively certain the first comment was directed at he and Vince and the second at Bollo (as Bollo was eating all the good biscuits) but the statement was still confusing.

“Who needs couples’ counseling?” Howard asked. “I’m single at the moment…”

“You couldn’t pull at Top Shop with an arm full of vouchers,” snorted Vince.

“What does that even mean?”

“Work it out!” Vince snapped. There was no playfulness in his answer, only hostility. Apparently, Vince was still stewing over his failed effort to front the Black Tubes. Vince’s anger – or really any bad feeling – usually lasted a few hours, not weeks and Howard was starting to get concerned.

But not concerned enough to let the comment pass.

“I don’t see any girls knocking down the door to get to you,” Howard retorted, knowing he was being unkind, “Unless it’s to steal your clothes.”

Despite all odds, Howard and Vince had managed to meet nice girls at Howard’s debacle of a birthday party, only to promptly lose them. Vince’s girl had disappeared after nicking some of his favorite tops and Howard’s girl had pushed too hard for a commitment. Before they had so much as kissed, she wanted Howard to promise to be hers forever and she said she wanted a ring on her “scaly little finger”. Howard hadn’t noticed anything wrong with her fingers, but his grandmother had been plagued with the scourge of eczema, so he was sympathetic. Howard was not adverse to building a life with someone with dermatitis, but he wasn’t ready to settle down at the tender age of *cough, cough* thirty-two.

So Howard remained single, as did Vince, making Naboo’s comment simply ridiculous.

“If you’ll stop bickering like an old married couple, you’ll see you’re an old married couple and you need some help,” Naboo explained. “Now sit down, and let’s begin.”

“Naboo, I’ve only just returned from Denmark,” Howard paused while Vince snickered. “No offense, but I’m really not ready for your magical faux-psychological rubbish right now.”

“Shut up,” ordered Bollo. “Howard unfaithful ballbag, break Vince’s precious heart.”

“Unfaithful?” Howard repeated. Even for a talking gorilla, Bollo seemed to be talking nonsense. “Vince and I are not a couple and I can’t cheat on him. This was really helpful, Naboo, but I have better things to do than listen to your incoherent ramblings, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Vince agreed. “Howard’s got an ad for adult diapers coming up and he needs to practice his poo face.”

Vince feigned bearing down while grunting and crossing his eyes. Howard forced a chuckle as he dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands. If he reacted to Vince’s mocking, it would only egg him on.

“That’s enough,” Naboo snapped, using the authoritative voice he normally reserved for negotiating drug prices and refusing returns at the Nabootique. “Clearly, you’re both ballbags and your relationship has always been creepy, but this bickering has to stop. Now sit down before I put a hex on you.”

Vince promptly sat down. He never questioned Naboo’s powers. Howard was a bit more dubious, but Naboo had been helpful in the past and after being home for only a few days, he was already sick of Vince’s bitchy comments. They didn’t make duct tape strong enough to silence Vince Noir, so it was best to play along.

“Get the white board,” Naboo ordered Bollo before taking a long drag from his hookah. When the gorilla returned with the board on a folding easel, Howard waited for Vince to grumble. It should have come as no surprise that Vince was sitting up and attentive. Vince was entranced by Naboo’s “wisdom”. It was apparently only Howard’s lectures that Vince found intolerable. Even as a new zookeeper, Vince had never afforded Howard the respect he deserved. Vince had been sassy and insubordinate from the beginning. It was Vince who destroyed Howard’s authority at the Zooniverse long before Bambridge came along. It wasn’t until Bambridge began attacking Howard that Vince showed himself capable of loyalty. He still made his jokes and jibes, but Vince tried to be Howard’s ally and even his friend. Howard still remembered the day Vince said “we” when talking about Howard fighting the Killeroo. Their relationship had become fairly friendly at that point, but Howard hadn’t expected Vince to actually care about his problem or try to help him. As much as Vince had failed in every way as a boxing manager, Howard considered that to be when they moved from work mates to actual friends. On the anniversary of that day, Howard always tried to find some way to celebrate without Vince catching on. He’d make special pancakes or buy Vince some candy, claiming he needed to break a large bill at a petrol station. Howard hadn’t had a lot of friends in life, and losing Tommy had been a crushing blow (both times). He felt protective of his friendship with Vince. In fact, he sometimes felt so deeply about their relationship he felt embarrassed and maybe a tiny bit afraid. He didn’t want those feelings to be mocked, so he pushed Vince away when he was feeling vulnerable. He did and said things that were unkind. All his posturing and even his absence with Jurgen had no effect on Vince, other than to make him even colder and more belligerent.

 

It was his desire, his need, to repair his friendship with Vince that made Howard sit down for Naboo’s lecture.

Naboo wrote “we-ness” on the white board.

“We-ness?” Vince read. “Is that like a small penis? Like, ‘He’s got a wee penis, let’s call it a we-ness?”

Naboo looked solemn before cracking a smile.

“No, Vince, but that is a good guess and I will be using that in the future. We-ness is the feeling of being two parts of a whole. People who are in relationships protect that we-ness.”

“By wearing a cup,” Howard joked, getting a snicker from Vince and glare from Naboo and Bollo. In that moment, Howard understood what Naboo meant. With his joke, Howard was perfectly happy to alienate his other friends in order to make a connection with Vince. They weren’t a typical couple, but Howard and Vince were a double act. They were a “we”.

“So let’s talk about Howard’s infidelity,” Naboo began, writing the word on the white board.

“What?” Howard cried. “Vince is the one who tried to join another band! We have a band.”

“That was just because you kept talking about acting and getting head shots with Lester,” Vince yelled, his face turning red with anger. “You was trying to leave me! You’re always trying to leave me! I’m never good enough, you always go running after Sir Conker Head or Tommy or Milky Joe or Gideon or Jurgen Whatsaburger. You have to be a great explorer or a photographer or an actor. You can’t ever just be happy or just try and bring me along as anything but a caddy or a pit pony. I can talk to animals. I can pull shapes. I’m the Prince of Camden! I’m not just a nobody you can throw away.”

Howard was shocked by the outburst and annoyed at being cast as the problem.

“I wouldn’t have to try to find some one to pay attention to me if you weren’t always there, hogging the spotlight and showing me up!” Howard yelled, his nose inches from Vince’s. Only the impressive size of their respective proboscises kept them apart. “You stole my role, you let Gideon touch your precious hair, you stole the cover of Global Explorer and you tried to ditch me for those skinny idiots just because they’re young and trendy…”

Howard’s throat closed up and he could hardly breathe. His heart was pounding like it was trying to break free of his ribcage.

If Vince noticed Howard’s distress, he didn’t let on.

“When it was between me and nobody on that island, you chose nobody! When it was between me and a map, you chose the map! When it was between me and some girl you didn’t even know, you chose some girl! I wouldn’t choose anyone over you!” Vince screamed.

Howard wanted to say, “What about a shiny cape or a stupid punk band?” but he could barely breathe and Vince had broken down into sobs. Howard tugged at his rollneck, trying to catch his breath as he patted Vince’s shoulder with is other hand. Even when he was being an absolute prick, Vince was soft-hearted and it was painful to see him upset. Vince threw off Howard’s hand before burying his head in Howard’s chest. Vince had a way of sending mixed signals.

“I have more material to cover…” Naboo interrupted, holding up a stack of papers. “I had Bollo get my notes collated and everything…”

Vince was grinding his eye make-up and snot into Howard’s rollneck, and Howard wanted to let his anger go and just offer comfort to his little man.

But he was hurting.

“You ruined my record to impress those idiots…”

Vince cried harder, and Howard felt the last of his anger melt. He wrapped both arms around Vince and held him tight.

“You were spending so much time with Lester,” Vince whimpered as he continued to rub his face into Howard’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

“I was…” Howard couldn’t say lonely and he couldn’t think of a better word for how he so often felt around Vince. No one made Howard laugh harder or feel more happy to be alive than Vince, and yet there was something precarious about their relationship. Howard often felt things were off keel, but unsure of how to correct it. Whether he pulled Vince closer or pushed him away, Howard still felt things were unbalanced and ready to fall apart. He missed the easy days of the zoo when they had clearly defined roles: Howard was in charge and Vince did whatever he liked.

“I spent hours looking up the latest literature on infidelity,” Naboo added. “I put a lot of work into this…”

“I didn’t want to leave you behind,” Howard whispered with tears welling in his own eyes. He closed his eyes as Vince raised up on his toes and rubbed his face into Howard’s neck.

“Bollo made some graphs…” Naboo continued.

“Bollo learn Excel. Not easy. Not intuitive for gorilla.”

Howard felt Vince’s lips against his neck and wondered if he was about to be bitten.

“Don’t leave me, Howard,” Vince whispered. He wasn’t so much kissing Howard’s necks as just rubbing his lips against it, but it was the most intimate touch Howard had ever experienced – even more than when he and Vince kissed on the rooftop.

“Let’s go to the pub, Bollo,” Naboo suggested. “I guess our work here is done.”

“Howard going to bum precious flower,” Bollo sighed. “No good watching.”

Howard’s face burned with embarrassment and anticipation. He could feel Vince was hard. Maybe he would want to have sex. Howard slid his hand down Vince’s back to his waist and then to the curve of his ass. Vince didn’t pull away, he just twisted his fingers into Howard’s hair.

“I guess we’ll just be going, yeah?” Naboo spoke with a heavily put upon air. “I’ll just leave you with the handhouts – in color, which cost extra– that explain how infidelity isn’t about who fucks who or kisses who or any of that rubbish. Infidelity is when you break someone’s trust and shatter that person’s view of the world. Please don’t get any stains on the furniture.”

After the door closed behind Naboo and Bollo, Howard squeezed Vince’s behind and Vince lightly bit Howard’s ear.

“I just wanted you to respect me,” Howard admitted as he ran his hand over Vince’s shapely ass. “I never wanted to go anywhere.”

“I do respect you, I just act up when I’m nervous,” Vince groaned into Howard’s ear as he ground his hips into Howard’s.

It was undeniably true. Whenever Vince was nervous, he got loud and demanded attention. Even as Vince spoke, Howard felt years of misunderstandings clearing in his mind. He could see how young Vince’s behavior came from a desperation to have some control over his situation. Howard should have recognized it back in the day, he was used to the young one’s acting up, but he’d been fooled by Vince’s apparent confidence. Howard had been taken in by Vince’s daring clothes and easy smile and assumed Vince was a happy, normal kid. It took years to realize Vince was actually quite shy and insecure. It took a lot of coaxing to get Vince to show one of his paintings to Howard. Howard didn’t know anything about art, but he’d been honest about loving the piece because it was so purely Vince. It was an image that was simple but strange and superficially happy but with a hint of sadness. It was called, “Floppy Hump”.

Vince didn’t hesitate to show his work to Mrs. Gideon or Bollo.

“You’re a little shit when you’re nervous,” Howard corrected, getting a laugh from Vince.

Vince took Howard’s face in his hands and forced Howard to look him in the eyes.

“Sometimes, you make me nervous,” Vince spoke in a quiet but earnest tone. “I want you to like me so much, I get all tripped up on trying to make you want to be with me.”

All the blood in Howard’s body had pooled below his waist, but he was aware that what Vince was saying was of vital significance.

“I love you, Vince.”

It was a bit of a non sequitur, but Vince seemed to understand. Howard allowed himself to be pushed down onto the couch so Vince could straddle his lap. Howard continued to fondle Vince’s rear end as he tried to work up the nerve to give Vince a kiss. He always thought that after his first kiss, he’d have the hang of osculation, but he felt as nervous and clumsy as ever.

“Don’t ever leave again,” Vince demanded as he tugged at Howard’s hair.

“I won’t,” Howard readily agreed. “I hated being away from you.”

Vince closed his lips over Howard’s and they were kissing again. Their first kiss had been light and gentle, but now Vince seemed to be trying to meld their skulls together. His teeth were at digging into Howard’s skin.

Vince pulled back enough to speak, his breath hot on Howard’s nose, “I can’t be your girlfriend. I can’t bake you cakes or talk about boring books.” Vince ground his hips into Howard’s lap. “But I can suck your cock when you’re feeling down.”

“That seems reasonable,” Howard agreed. The world was full of book clubs and bakeries, but there was only one Vince.

“I don’t want things to change,” Vince continued between sloppy, rough kisses. “I just want to be us, except I don’t need to make an excuse to get in your bed at night.”

“You are always welcomed in my bed,” Howard agreed. He’d only ever tried to keep Vince out because of the inevitable awkwardness of becoming aroused at his presence. That his arousal would (generally) be a welcomed thing was a lovely thought.

“You can hang out with Lester and do boring jazz things as long as you come home and fuck me senseless.”

“Oh, Christy. I mean, that’s agreeable.”

Howard tried to slow Vince’s hips for fear of coming in his pants when Vince again grabbed him by the sides of his face and stared deep into his eyes.

“And sometimes, I’m going to want to fuck you.”

The words hung in the air like Howard was supposed to respond.

“Now?” he asked, thinking about the one time as a teen he’d tried to finger himself. It hurt and he never tried again.

Vince ran his fingers through Howard’s hair and smiled. “Not now. Right now, I want you to fuck me.”

Howard cast a glance at the white board and wondered how Naboo’s lecture could lead to Vince wanting sex while Howard’s lectures always but Vince to sleep.

Vince followed Howard’s gaze.

“I always want to be a ‘we’ with you. I don’t want you to outgrow me,” Vince said, looking sad.

Howard touched Vince’s shiny black hair, careful not to disturb the style. He wanted to tell Vince how, from the day Howard first saw him, he’d always wanted to be a “we”. Howard had always wanted to be part of Vince’s sunshine. He wanted to wear Vince’s optimism and light like a coat.

“Just don’t call me boring,” Howard said instead. “It makes me feel…”

‘Like dying’ seemed like an overly dramatic end to the statement, but Howard couldn’t think of anything else to say. So he said nothing.

Vince gave Howard a gentle kiss before pulling him off of the couch.

As Vince began to strip, Howard fiddled with his own clothing. He wasn’t normally shy around Vince, who had seen everything at one point of another, but he felt like stripping for a potential lover should somehow be different. He wished he could put on a little smooth jazz without sending Vince running. Vince seemed to sense Howard’s discomfort.

“Get your kit off, Howard. I don’t want to get carpet burn on those cords,” Vince giggled. “I feel weird, too. Sex is weird, Howard. It always is.”

Howard tried to pull his rollneck off with panache, but it got stuck around his neck. Vince climbed on top of the sofa and gave him a hand. When the rollneck was on the floor, Vince carefully fixed Howard’s hair before kissing him.

“How do you want me?” Vince asked. “On my knees? On my back? Standing up?”

Howard was the kind of person who couldn’t bear to walk into a bakery. The sight of so many sugary treats made him feel overwhelmed. He couldn’t over-indulge and he’d rather have none than try to choose one.

Vince went into a pastry shop and had one of everything, and wore his stomachache like a badge of courage.

“How do you want me?” Howard asked. It was apparently the right thing to say, because Vince closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

Howard was a bit scandalized to watch Vince pull johnnies and lubricant out of a candy dish. Howard had often dusted the dish but never lifted the lid. It seemed a rather clunky metaphor for the fact he’d been trying all too hard to avoid temptation.

Vince laid down on the couch, his legs spread wide as he eased two fingers inside himself. He stared at Howard, unembarrassed, as he prepared himself. Howard reached for a condom and began reading the directions. Vince groaned and snatched the packet out of Howard’s hands.

“This is no time for reading,” Vince teased, ripping the package open with his teeth. He put the tip of the condom in his mouth and knelt in front of Howard. Howard had a lot of questions – mainly technical in nature – but Vince quickly demonstrated his intentions. Using just his lips, Vince slid the condom onto Howard’s erection. Even as his knees buckled at the remarkable sensation of a mouth on his cock, Howard was impressed at Vince’s trick with the johnny. Vince was full of surprise talents.

Howard watched in a daze as Vince sucked his cock, his dark hair brushing his shoulders as he moved his head. Howard was about to warn Vince to stop when Vince climbed back onto the couch, resuming his wanton position. Howard had no clue about Vince’s experience in the bedroom, it was something they never, ever discussed, but he was glad someone knew what he was doing.

Howard was feeling overheated and the coolness of Vince’s skin was soothing.

“You’re all soft,” Vince purred as he rubbed his legs against Howard’s sides. Howard would add ‘soft’ to the list of adjectives he preferred not to have applied to his person at a later junction.

Vince reached between their bodies and guided Howard’s cock to his entrance.

“Well, not all soft,” Vince giggled. He grimaced as Howard began to press inside, biting his lip and letting out a muffled moan. Howard tried to pull back, but Vince wrapped his legs around Howard’s waist and held him in place.

“Keep going, Big Man,” he encouraged. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

Howard kissed Vince’s collar bone and his jaw and focused really hard on not coming as he made his excruciatingly slow entry. Vince’s eyes were dilated until there was only a trace of blue, making him look more like a magical creature than ever. Even with his hairy limbs and hairy bits on full display, Vince seemed mysterious to Howard. There were so many things Howard did not understand about his friend.

“It feels so good,” Vince whispered, seemingly to himself.

That was something Howard didn’t understand, because it seemed like Vince should be in pain.

“If it hurts…”

Before Howard could finish the thought, Vince pushed his hips up, forcing Howard deeper.

“I know what I want, Howard.”

Howard let Vince steer the pace, speeding up and slowing down with his breathy orders. Howard quickly became sweaty while Vince remained cool to the touch, but rather than pulling back in disgust, Vince licked the sweat from Howard’s shoulder and chest.

When Vince began stroking his own cock, Howard stopped and stared until he was prompted to, “hop to it.” He came too quickly, but Vince encouraged him to “keep going.” Howard thrust a few more times, his cock still hard, and felt a splash of warmth on his belly.

Vince clasped both hands over his mouth and began to giggle like a fiend.

Howard looked at the semen on his stomach and wondered if he should be upset about something. He wasn’t sure Vince should be laughing at that point.

“That is well filthy,” Vince squeaked out between giggles.

Howard looked around for something to clean himself with before he soiled the furniture, but Vince grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down. Howard wondered how Vince could be comfortable with Howard crushing him into the couch, but Vince gave a contented sigh.

“We-ness,” Vince spoke the word a few times, changing the inflection each time. Howard contemplated the idea of being a “we” with Vince. It was more than he’d dared to want for himself. Vince was a flighty brat, but he made Howard feel alive and like he had a place in the world. He loved Vince more than anything.

“It still sounds like you’re talking about a small pecker,” Howard observed.

Vince ineffectually slapped at Howard’s arse, but he was laughing.

“No more solo missions?” Vince asked, again forcing Howard to look him in the eye. As always, he was intimidated by Vince’s easy, even gaze.

“No more solo missions,” Howard agreed. He didn’t dare hope Vince would truly want whatever it was they had for the rest of his life. Vince was still learning how to use his abilities to dazzle and confuse those around him. Surely, he would someday tire of Howard and move on.

But Howard couldn’t protect himself with distance. Leaving Vince, however temporarily, had only hurt them both. If Howard was going to have his heart broken, he was damn sure going to have some happy memories to buoy him in his old age.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Vince observed as they carefully separated. Howard was about to make a joke, but Vince looked so serene, he couldn’t ruin the moment. Maybe it didn’t matter that Vince could do better than Howard. They were two halves of a whole.

“I’ll make you a cup of tea,” Howard offered, feeling Vince’s slightly chilled skin. “And I’ll get you one of those little chocolate cakes. It looks like you haven’t eaten in a year.”

Vince dramatically threw himself back on the couch.

“Tea and cakes! It keeps getting better! If I’m dreaming, don’t you dare fucking pinch me.”

Howard felt a touch of something otherworldly. It was a feeling he occasionally got when he was with Vince. It was a feeling that there was an order to the universe and he was exactly where he belonged. He must have been lost in his thoughts for a while, because his reverie was broken by a pillow flying at his head.

“You promised tea and cake,” Vince teased. “Don’t let me down now.”

Howard pulled on his trousers and headed to the kitchen. He had plenty of time to disappoint Vince, tonight he wanted to do things just right.


End file.
